


Tending Roses

by ArtemisRae



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kissing in the Rain, because she deserves that, literally just a fic about el being happy and safe and secure, literally nothing that you wouldn't find in a PG13 movie, mature themes but nothing graphic, ridiculous tooth rotting fluff, tasteful pan to window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRae/pseuds/ArtemisRae
Summary: “Where you tend a rose my lad, a thistle cannot grow.”― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret GardenThunderstorms are initially terrifying to El. Eventually, she makes some of her best memories in the rain.





	Tending Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Because I've been writing too much angst lately, I desperately needed to write a Happy El Hopper fic. 
> 
> All of my fics take place in the same universe. I'm not tagging this fic as part of For the Unknown, but if you've read any of those fics you'll recognize some details and references. If you haven't, you can still read this fic without any problem.
> 
> In case you didn't read the tags - this does have some mature themes, but there is absolutely nothing that wouldn't be in a PG-13 movie.

El had been living with Hopper for almost four months ( _102 days_ , by Mike’s count over the radio) when the thunder came back.

When she'd experienced her first thunderstorm she hadn't had a word for the loud crashing noise in the sky above her. At that point El had been alone in the woods, wearing nothing but a t-shirt. She'd never experienced rain before, let alone being soaked in it, all alone on a cold November night.

That had been the night she met Mike and Dustin and Lucas, and while it had been a terrifying and overwhelming night - new sights and new smells and a new place to sleep and _friends_ for the first time in her life - her two most visceral memories from that night had been the biting pain in her bare feet, and the sound of thunder rattling the house above them.

The storm had seemed to echo forever that first night, when she had burrowed into the huddle of blankets that Mike had given her. Despite the fact that she was warm and safe for the first time in her life, the noise still reminded her forcefully of the awful creature that had chased her out of the Void.

She had wondered where that creature had gone to; if it was right outside, waiting to hurt her and her _friends_ (she thought about spitting into her palm and holding Mike's hand, the way Lucas had with Dustin) and had thought about whether she was more frightened of that heinous, screaming thing or Papa and the Bad Men and their guns.

This time at the cabin though, she now had a word: _thunder_ , learned from the daily weather report on Channel 4 and confirmed by the dictionary. El had thought it was a good word. The word _thunder_ caught in her throat the same way it boomed in her chest. She knew exactly what to think of when she heard the word thunder.

(She had noticed that as she had started learning about the world around her, that the feelings of some words didn't match what they described. _Snow_ wasn't enough for the icy grip it'd once had on her fingers and toes, and _peas_ wasn't horrifying enough for the taste of the mushy vegetables. _Thunder_ was added to her mental list of Good Words, along with _squirrel_ , and _electricity_ , and _television_ , all words that had evoked a sense of what they were naming.)

Hopper had been at work when the storm had started, and even though El knew what the thunder was, and even knew what to expect, the sound of it had still made her chest ache and her eyes water. This feeling she didn't have the word for yet (though she would learn, soon, that it was _panic_ , and it would also go on the list of Good Words) but there was something in her heart shouting in fear and terror - something that was stealing her breath away and making her knees shake when she stood up. 

She skittered into her little bedroom, shutting the door with the wave of her hand, and leapt into the bed. Longingly, she thought of her little nest in the Wheeler's basement (because it hadn't occurred to her yet that she could make her own) as she pulled the faded quilt above her head and tucked her worn teddy bear under her chin.

Eyes clenched shut, she thought of Mike and his Supercomm, Dustin and his compasses, and Lucas and his wrist rocket, thought of them trying to keep her away from Papa, thought of the Demogorgon's scream, and -

-And the bed was transforming into the hard countertop of the science lab underneath her. She could taste ash on her tongue, and the lights were flickering (she would never know if it was her or the storm), and it was hard to breathe but Mike was holding her hands and promising to take care of her-

Thunder clapped then, so loudly the entire cabin seemed to shake. It was enough to pull El out of the flashback, though, and so she pulled the pillow over her head, trying to muffle the noise, and closed her eyes, attempting to escape into the Void.

She couldn't - the steady hum of rain might have been substitute enough for the static of the television but the blanket wasn't enough to block the flashes of lightning.

It only lasted about ten minutes before El realized that the only noise she now heard was the gentle thrum of rain on the roof above her. Cautiously she peeked out from under the blanket, swiped at her nose - _clean_ \- and rubbed the quilt against her wet eyes.

The next time it happened when Hopper was at work - only a couple days later, as Hawkins transitioned to spring, she thought to throw the quilt over the kitchen table and crawl underneath, but it wasn’t the same - in fact, it had upset her more, because at that point she had been scared _and_ sad. El ended up weeping that day, crouched under the kitchen table and hugging her pillow to her chest.

Her and Hopper had one of their bigger fights that evening - she wanted to know when she could see her friends, and that night was when she started to hate the word _soon_. _Soon_ was a bad word, because it didn't fully encompass the frustration and impatience she felt waiting for it to be safe for her to go out and find her friends.

Hopper knew how she longed for her friends, but she hadn’t had the words to explain why that fight had been so heated, why the longing for Mike and Lucas and Dustin - and Will, she could see them with Will sometimes in the Void - had been so acute that night. 

Maybe things would have been different if she’d been able to say that being alone was scary, even though she followed rules and she wasn’t stupid; if she’d been able to tell him how the passing storms were terrifying, how nursing herself through them was draining, that when she had been that scared before Mike and his friends had brought her in, dried her off, and taken care of her.

She wanted to be taken care of that way again - more than that, she wanted to take care of them too.

***

Over a year later, she and Hopper were sitting on the front porch of the cabin one sweet spring afternoon. It was the first warm day after a prolonged winter - El didn’t know it at the time but the weather would turn again and they’d get one last foot of snow before the end of the week even though it was almost April - and she and Hopper had decided to have lunch outside and soak in the sunshine. 

_Soon_ had a different meaning now. _Soon_ was how many months until she could start school, how many days until the Party had their next sleepover, how many hours until Mike was coming to visit her at the cabin. _Soon_ was still prolonged, tortured impatience, but it almost always had a concrete number at the end of it, and she gave Hopper credit for that. 

Today, _soon_ was how much longer Hopper left for work - he almost always went in on Saturday nights, which meant lonely nights for her (although sometimes the entire party would get on the Supercomm and keep her company, while other times it was just her and Mike, whispering to each other well past bedtime) but it also meant that he was home for lunch.

They were sitting on the porch, El with a glass of cola and Hopper with a cup of cold coffee. She was reading out loud to him from the battered copy of _The Secret Garden_ he’d brought her from the library only two days previous. 

While Hopper had been at work she had been racing through it - her reading comprehension had improved dramatically as they had worked to get her ready to start high school with the party - and when he’d realized she was almost done with it he’d made her start over, reading out loud this time.

“Forces you to slow down,” he’d told her. “Helps me make sure you understand what you’re reading.”

She’d pouted at the time, eager to know how the story ended, and see what else Hopper would bring her from the library, but it turned out to be one of her favorite things to do with Hopper. El would try to do voices, the same way he did, even if she sometimes stumbled over the words.

As she read, the sunlight started to fade away, and the air suddenly smelled damp. There was a sudden heaviness invading, and when El lifted her head she noticed the dark clouds.

“Ah, yeah.” Hopper noticed her distraction. “Looks like it’s going to rain.”

The first clap of thunder sounded then, and El jumped almost a foot in the air before scrambling back into the cabin, door slamming behind her.

“El?” Hopper called through the front door. “Kid? You locked me out.”

She crouched behind the couch. The rain had just started to fall in sheets, a thundering drone on the roof of the cabin, and again Hopper knocked. “Kid, I’m getting wet out here. I know you don’t like storms but let me in.”

She unlocked the door, but he didn’t come to her immediately. Instead he went into the kitchen, refreshed his cup of coffee, and then appeared over the back of the couch, peering down at her. “You want to stay back there?”

El nodded, and the couch groaned as Hopper settled against it. “Okay, that’s fine. It won’t last much longer anyway.”

A beat, and then El turned, gripping the back of the couch and looking at Hopper. “How do you know?” she asked, so quietly Hopper made her repeat it twice before he heard her over the rain.

“Look at the window,” Hopper ordered, pointing a finger. “You know the lightning that flashes before the thunder? Next time you see a flash, start counting until you hear the thunder.”

It took a minute, before the lightning struck, and El obediently started to count. She made it to twenty one before the thunder rolled, and Hopper looked pleased. “See? That means the storm is four miles away. Do you know how far away that is?”

El shook her head. “That’s further than Mike lives,” Hopper explained, sipping his coffee. El was impressed. Sometimes it felt like the distance between the cabin and Mike was nigh insurmountable. “Now count again.”

The next time lightning flashed, El made it to almost thirty before she heard thunder. “See?” Hopper prompted. It wasn’t raining as hard either, and El could tell that the storm was winding down. “Now it’s almost six miles away.”

She didn’t even see the next flash of lightning, but she still heard the thunder - it was faint, a distant shout. “We get a lot of rain in the spring,” Hopper said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She was still crouched behind the couch, though her knees were starting to ache. “You going to be okay while I’m at work?”

“I will.” _Now_. He never asked how she had handled previous storms, but Hopper had obviously guessed judging by the way he hugged her before he left for work that afternoon.

It was several weeks before she got to show off her new trick - one Saturday Dustin and Lucas were at the cabin with her when the storm started. She loved days like today, even when Mike couldn’t be there. Dustin had told her how Mike’s family had gone to visit his grandparents, and Lucas had laughed as he had recounted Mike’s pout when he’d learned they were spending the afternoon with El. 

Dustin had lugged his Atari out to the cabin, and he and Lucas were showing her the finer points of Centipede as the gray clouds rolled in. 

“You gotta know about this stuff when you start school,” Dustin had said eagerly from behind the television as he plugged everything in. “Pretty much everyone plays video games.”

“Yeah, and once you’re allowed out we’re going to take you to the arcade,” Lucas added. “I can’t wait to see Mike’s face when you beat his high score at Dig Dug.”

The three of them had been sitting on the floor, cross-legged in front of the television when the storm had started. As soon as she saw the first flash of lightning, El dropped the controller.

“What are you doing, _what are you doing!_ ” Lucas shouted, while Dustin yelled something unintelligible.

Thunder crashed, and El finally answered, “Counting.”

“Counting what?!” Dustin demanded, scooping the controller out of her lap and trying to salvage her game.

“How far the storm is.” El craned her head back to look at the window, waiting for the next lightning strike. “Hopper taught me.”

“Did he tell you why?” Dustin asked, and there was no hint of condescension in his tone, only excitement at the possibility of sharing knowledge with El.

Mike would always be her favorite when it came to explaining the greater mysteries of the world, and Will was unusually good at sussing out what emotional response had prompted her questions in the first place. Lucas was best at giving her honest, uncensored answers, while Max was who she relied on to translate _boy talk_ into something relevant to El’s interests.

Nobody, however, beat Dustin when it came to sheer enthusiasm. He’d never once made her feel dumb for her ignorance - in fact, he never seemed anything but thrilled to talk about any number of subjects that El knew nothing about, especially if it was science related.

“Okay, well.” He practically threw the controller at Lucas, who picked up the game without missing a beat. “Lightning is just electricity, and light is like, the fastest known thing in the universe, right? Hey, your powers mess with lights all the time, do you think you could control lightening? I totally bet you could.”

“There is absolutely no safe way to test that hypothesis,” Lucas interjected, eyes still focused on the television.

“Nah,” Dustin flapped his hands impatiently. “There must be some way we can ground her, maybe with -”

“I don’t mean El’s safety,” Lucas interrupted. “I’m talking about yours. There’s no way to test that idea without Mike kicking your ass.”

Dustin opened his mouth to respond, but El cut him off. She gestured to the window. "Lightning is electricity?" El prompted, wanting him to continue.

"Yeah!" He stood up and went to the window, ducking his head to look out at the storm. "When it rains like this, all that water in the clouds bumps into each other, and it fills the cloud up with electrical charges, and when it gets too heavy it looks for something high up - like trees, lightning is always hitting trees - and BLAMMO!"

El made a face at his exclamation, but Dustin barreled on, undeterred, "So you see the lightning coming out of the clouds, and it moves so fast that the sound it makes can't keep up with it, and that's the thunder."

"Can't keep up?" She glanced over at Lucas, whose eyes had practically glazed over. She wondered if he was still listening.

"Yeah, isn't it cool? Thunder is the noise lightning makes, but the light moves _so fast_ that you hear the noise after you see it!" He looked so happy that El was starting to feel bad about the idea that had formed in the back of her mind. Not too bad though - she had been around the Party enough to see how they interacted with one another, and she knew -

"Noise?" she asked, pursing her lips and wrinkling her eyebrows. Lucas shot her a glance, and went right back to the video game.

"It's literally a sonic shock wave," Dustin said dramatically, leaning against the window sill. "How cool is that?"

As if to prove his point, the thunder clapped again, but El only noticed peripherally, caught up in her conversation with Dustin. "Sonic shock?"

"Yeah it's - hey, you know what else is a sonic boom? You know Indiana Jones's whip? Every time he uses it, it makes that cracking noise -" Dustin mimed the gesture. "- that's a sonic boom. It's literally breaking the sound barrier. That's why it makes that noise."

"Whip?" El asked, and Lucas looked at her again, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Indy's bullwhip?" Dustin prompted, and at El's blank stare he bit his lip. "You saw Indiana Jones. A whip is - it's like, a piece of leather I guess -" He scratched the back of his head, and then stopped and looked at her, unconsciously mirroring her confused look. "El are you - don't be offended but - are you like, messing with me?"

Lucas snorted and paused the game, dropping the controller so he could bury his face into his hands.

El hesitated - almost caved, but followed her instincts instead, and said nothing. She just blinked at him. Dustin visibly swallowed. 

“Right - it’s - it’s a long piece of leather - and,” Dustin continued, much more unsure now. “It’s a weapon - but, it’s like - look, you’ve seen Indiana Jones - it’s - are you sure you’re not messing with me?”

El caved then, a grin cracking across her face. She shrugged and looked down at her lap, bashful.

“I knew it!” Dustin hooted as Lucas dissolved into laughter. He dropped down to his knees in front of El and threw his arms around her. El giggled as he hugged her close. “I knew you had a sense of humor!”

She wrapped arms around Dustin’s neck, letting his weight bowl her over. Lucas was shaking his head.

“Shit.” Dustin sat back on his heels and looked at her appraisingly. “You might have a better sense of humor than Mike.”

***

Bonfires, El had learned, were one of her favorite parts about the inevitable slide back into winter. After Labor Day, when El had started her freshman year of high school, they had become an almost weekly occurrence. If they could pool their allowances the Party could go to the arcade or the movies, but they had found that sitting around the fire pit on the Byers’ property - sometimes with s’mores, sometimes with hot dogs, more often just testing to see what would burn and how quickly - was a quiet break from the frenetic pace of high school.

It gave them time to discuss classes, and share gossip, and compare their experiences. El had been eager to be a normal high school student, only to discover that _none_ of them knew what it meant to be a normal high school student. In a way, it was a relief to be learning things with her friends instead of from her friends, and she relished their Friday nights around the bonfire.

She also liked that she could sit close to Mike - so close that their hips touched, and their legs pressed into each other from thigh to knee - and when the sun started to set and it got chilly Mike would always, without fail, strip off his sweatshirt and offer it to her.

El always took the sweatshirt. Just once, early in September, it had still been warm and she had told him she didn't need it. The look of disappointment that had crossed his face was so acute she'd nearly torn it wrestling it off of him. She'd made a vow then that she would never reject an offering from him again.

Tonight, they were holding hands. El was enjoying the hot air on her face when the wind picked up suddenly. Dustin craned his head back to look up and intoned, "Uh, guys?"

That was all the warning they got before the skies opened up and the rain started.

Max shrieked - or maybe it was Lucas, it was hard to tell - but they all made a mad grab for their jackets and bags and snacks and took off for shelter. El had been holding Mike's hand, but he'd let go of her to pick up his rucksack, and in her haste to get out of the rain, El took off without making sure he was following.

She could hear footsteps behind her, and so she pelted into the dark, rain slapping at her face. The first lightning strike and immediate clap of thunder was almost enough to make her jump in the air. She tripped, caught herself on the edge of the tree trunk, and when she took an extra second to make sure she had her feet under her - because her heart was pounding and her knees were shaking - frantic hands pulled at her shirt and someone shouted, "Come on, come on!"

It was only another thirty seconds that they were out in the rain, but El was relieved when the ragged form of Castle Byers came into view. Without missing a beat El threw herself through the tarp and heavy curtain that blocked the doorway.

Shivering, she tried to shake water out of her hair. Mike nudged a dry blanket from the cot into her hands, and when she turned to thank him -

It wasn't Mike who had followed her to Castle Byers. It was Will. 

He fumbled in the dark with a small lantern in the corner. "I don't come out here at night anymore, so I don't know how long the batteries will last,” he warned her, setting it on the floor between them. "Hopefully until the rain stops."

They made eye contact over the dim light, the shadows long on their faces, and smiled. The little fort was filled with the dull roar of rain against the tarp that waterproofed it and kept them dry. Will sat down on the end of the cot and patted the seat next to him.

"Here," he said. "I think I have a deck of cards around here. Anyone teach you how to play War?"

Aside from his gentle instructions, that was all the conversation they made. Neither one of them commented on the fact that they were the only two to run to Castle Byers, or why it might be the first place they'd thought of when they'd had an immediate need for _safety_ , and _shelter_.

That happened a lot with Will, she had noticed. She could talk for hours with Dustin and Lucas and Max, and she relished every minute she got with Mike, whether alone or with the Party, but Will was the one she had found that she could just sit with, and he didn't feel the need to make sure she was okay or that she understood what they were talking about every thirty seconds.

He always seemed to know what she needed, whether it was to be distracted from something, or to be quiet. If she needed a break from the frenetic energy of the collective group, he could pull her away, and if she needed to be in the middle of the action, to avoid damaging or scary thoughts Will could start an argument with Dustin, or challenge Lucas to a race, and suddenly everyone would be going at full energy.

It was comforting. Mike always looked out for her, but Will didn't need to. He just seemed to know, sometimes before El herself even knew.

He unzipped the sleeping bag that was laying on the cot so they could throw it over their shoulders, and then dealt the cards.They'd barely started playing before Will stiffened, distant eyes gazing upward. "Do you hear that?"

El froze, every single muscle tensing, but she still heard nothing but the pouring rain and the rumble of thunder.

She looked at Will, wide eyed and alarmed, but he merely put a finger to his lips and stood, looking at the doorway. Heart pounding, she stood up too -

And then the curtain was whipped aside and a whirlwind of soaking wet, panicking Mike Wheeler burst into Castle Byers.

"Will?" Then his eyes landed on El. "Oh thank god!"

"Mike?" she squeaked as he threw his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. He was sopping wet, and dripped water down her neck, soaking her shirt.

He turned his head, and cuffed Will around the neck, pulling him into the hug. "You're wet," Will said, muffled by Mike's shoulders.

"Shut up," Mike said roughly. "We got back to your house and you and El were gone. You scared the shit out of us."

El's hand was pressed against his chest, and she could tell that he was still frightened. She could feel his heart racing against her palm.

Mike stepped back, but kept a hand on each of their shoulders, his grip tight like he was afraid to let them go. "Why the hell would you run here? Your house was closer!"

Will and El glanced at each other. How to explain to Mike that it was instinctual - that Castle Byers was inherently a place of safety? They'd been in the dark and the cold, and when the rain had started they'd both run for the first safe place they could remember.

The truth was, neither one had stopped to think about it. They'd run on reflex, and had ended up at Castle Byers.

They both shrugged, and Mike looked even more disgruntled. "Come on," he said, pulling aside the curtain. "The others are out there looking too. We're going to rendezvous at the trailhead."

Will ducked out without a second though, but El grabbed onto Mike's wrist. His gaze turned to her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, a smidge of urgency in his voice. His eyes darted back out into the rain where Will was already navigating the trees.

She didn't have words. Sometimes she thought she'd always struggle to find the right words. How to explain how inexplicably touched she felt at the thought that Mike would never let her spend the night alone in the cold and rain ever again? That he'd search for her over and over until he found her? That while she wasn't happy for his terror, she was honored by it?

To be the subject of that strong of an emotion left her feeling like her whole chest was opened up, the same way she had done to the Demogorgon - in a good way, but maybe almost as painful.

She rocked up onto tip toe and pressed a kiss to his cheek, squeezed his hand, and pulled him out into the rain behind her.

***

It was the bottom of the fourth, and Max, the lead off hitter for the Hawkins High softball team was on second base, her left leg stretched out as far as it could go without pulling her right foot off of the bag. Mike, El, Dustin and Will were sitting in the bleachers, and Mike and Dustin had yet to stop complaining about the fact that Lucas was sitting with the rest of the baseball team down in the front row.

“Guys,” Will said patiently. “Why do we do this every game? You know Lucas has to sit with the rest of the baseball team if they’re here. They made him run laps the one time he sat with us instead.”

“That’s not the point,” Mike griped, but El secretly thought that very much was the point - that Lucas would choose self preservation and the baseball team over the Party and Mike’s complaints that baseball (and therefore softball) was boring was somehow an insult to Mike.

El wasn’t particularly insulted. Sometimes Will and Dustin ate lunch with the theater kids, and sometimes Mike didn’t do homework with her because he was destroying AV equipment with Cece Prescott. So what if sometimes Lucas sat with the rest of the baseball team? The important thing was that they were supporting Max, whose parents never came to see her play.

She shivered as the wind picked up. Mike noticed and put an arm around her, pulling her closer - she was already wearing his jacket over her own windbreaker, and the radiating warmth of his body was all he had left to offer.

“It looks like it’s going to rain,” Will commented, trying in vain to change the subject. “I wonder if we’ll get rained out.”

“Nah,” Dustin dismissed. “They only call the game when it starts thundering.”

As if he’d summoned it himself, there was a massive boom. Despite the fact that they hadn’t seen the lightning, the umpires immediately stood and raised their arms, gesturing for the defense to leave the field and for Max to return to her dugout. She looked incredibly disgruntled as she whipped off her batting helmet and tossed it at the rest of the equipment.

As one, the members of the baseball team who were watching the game stood and walked over to the dugout where the softball team was currently huddled. Mike groaned in impatience. “It’s not even raining yet!” he complained, frowning up at the sky as if it were storming just to annoy him.

El looked up. The wind had picked up, and the steel gray clouds that had hung over their heads all day had darkened into a heavy, angry sky. A raindrop splattered right in the middle of her forehead. “Yes, it is,” she said, swiping at her face.

There was a pattering noise as the rain started to fall harder, and with a groan Dustin and Will both stood up and started to walk towards the school parking lot.

“Where are you going?” Mike called, standing up and reaching for El’s hand.

Dustin waved one hand over his shoulder, an unmistakable _keep up_ gesture. “We’ll wait it out in your car.”

Mike shrugged, and tugged El along with him. He’d had his license for less than two weeks but the station wagon was already a welcome member of the party. Not to mention, Mike and El had already taken advantage of the new freedom to find some privacy that would otherwise be impossible.

El, however, had different ideas than just getting out of the rain, and as they trudged up the field into the parking lot, she squeezed his hand and drew his attention to her. The rain picked up and she turned him to her, stood up on tiptoe, and pressed her lips against his.

As always when he kissed her, Mike’s grip slackened for the briefest instant, as if he were taken by surprise to be kissing her, yet again, and then abruptly tightened, as if she would try to run away. El wrapped an arm around his neck, noticing the way the rain soaked through her hair and ran down her neck. Mike’s arms went around her waist, pulling her against him, and matched her enthusiasm for a full ten seconds before he pulled away to ask, “What are you doing? We’re getting wet.”

What she was doing was remembering the movie that she and Max had watched not even a week ago - _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_. It was an old movie, and Hopper had scoffed when he’d come home and seen the girls sitting on the floor in front of the television.

Max hadn’t been as impressed as El, mostly indignant on behalf of poor Cat, dumped in the rain, but El had been fascinated by the ending and hadn’t been able to shake the image of Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard kissing in the rain. 

She’d been looking for a chance to recreate it with Mike, and here, in the middle of the high school parking lot, was as good as any other place.

“Saw it in a movie,” El muttered, and then threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled him down to her. 

Mike did not interrupt again - instead, he leaned into her, towering over her and opened his mouth, nudging hers open as well. Her back arched so she could press against his chest, so close that they shared the same breath.

_People do fall in love. People do belong to each other._ El remembered the dialogue from the movie, delivered to a pouting Audrey Hepburn in the back of a cab, and giddily thought that if there was anybody she belonged to, and wanted to belong to her in turn, it was Mike.

“Mike what are you doing?” Dustin’s aggrieved voice rang out, and though Mike grunted impatiently he didn’t break the kiss. “Mike, the station wagon is locked! Unlock the doors!”

Mike groaned - the sound went all the way to El’s toes - and pried a hand from El’s waist to dig into his jeans pocket, never severing their connection. His lips were the only spot of warmth in the cold rain. El heard the sound of his keys jingling, and Dustin’s surprised shout as Mike tossed them over his shoulder and hauled El up against him again. “ _Seriously_?!”

They went uninterrupted until the next crash of thunder, when El pulled away and pressed her forehead against his. “Should we go wait in the car?”

Mike snorted. “We’re already wet.” Then, considering, he asked, “Has Dustin found my keys yet?”

El tilted her head, looking around Mike’s shoulder. Dustin was on his knees, looking under a Chevy three parking spaces over. Will had given up on the station wagon, and had walked all the way back to the school, waiting patiently under the awning with several other students who had come out to watch the storm.

She shook her head. Mike’s fingers clenched around her waist.

“Give him another minute,” he decided, and dipped his head to kiss her again.

***

They were driving home from the Hawk after seeing the second Evil Dead movie. Max and Will, in the backseat of the station wagon, were comparing it to the first movie, while El and Mike, in the front, were mostly quiet.

El, because she hadn’t seen the first one and had spent most of the movie making out with Mike anyway, and Mike because it was storming, and visibility was terrible even with the high beams on.

They’d gone to a matinee, so it was only late afternoon, but between the dark - almost black - clouds that had invaded and the ferocity of the storm, Mike was cursing and barely going twenty miles an hour as he tried not to hydroplane along the roads. 

“El,” Will said. “We’ll have to find a copy of the first one. The first one is so good!”

“Maybe then she can see the second one,” Max snickered. El turned her head to roll her eyes at her - just because Lucas hadn’t been able to join them was no reason to be jealous.

Before she could reply, however, there was a loud _BANG_ and the car jerked to the left. Mike navigated the station wagon to the side of the road, swearing the entire way. 

“I hit a pothole,” he said, face flushed, clearly furious. “I saw it at the last minute but couldn’t swerve.”

“What’s wrong?” El asked, craning her head to try and look out the driver’s side window.

“We have a flat,” Mike grumbled. “There’s a spare in the back. I’ll have to try and change it.”

“I’ll help,” El said immediately. Hopper had taught her just last year how to change a tire, taking her with him when Callahan had been stranded on some back country road in one of the police cruisers. 

“Me too!” Will added quickly.

Mike looked horrified. “What? No! I know how.” He slammed the parking brake on and without another word opened the car door and rolled out into the rain.

“Well I’m not helping,” Max promised, slumping in her seat and playing with the split ends of her hair.

El counted to ten, and while Mike was in the back, wrestling the spare tire and jack out of the hutch under the floorboards, opened her own door.

“El-” Will started to say, but El turned a stern gaze on him.

“Stay here,” she ordered, stepping out into the rain herself.

She was soaked instantly. The rain was falling in sheets, and forming little ankle deep rivers that ran over her shoes on their way to the storm drain. There wasn’t any point in trying to save anything; she knelt in front of the drivers side tire and started loosening the lug nuts with the turn of a wrist while Mike hauled the tire up to the front.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, dropping the tire. “I told you I could do it!”

“I can help,” El said stubbornly, swiping at her nose and finding only rain water. No more red. It had been years since she’d used so much power that her nose had bled. “It’ll go faster.”

“You’ll get sick!” Mike protested, kneeling next to her and positioning the jack under the car.

“ _You’ll_ get sick!” El shot back, cranking the jack with a sniff before Mike could even try. 

Instead of looking grateful, he looked only frustrated. “Get back in the car El!”

“ _You_ get back in the car!” She had to yell over the next clap of thunder. “I can do it faster than you!”

He shouldered her, rolling the spare closer. El held her ground. “You aren’t supposed to be using your powers in public,” Mike ground out, glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody was nearby who could be watching. “Go wait in the car. I can finish it from here.”

El felt a shot of guilt at that - she _wasn’t_ supposed to use her powers outside. No matter how cautiously optimistic Hopper was that Hawkins was safe for her, it would never be safe _enough_ , and it was a rule El was used to following closely.

All the same, she wasn’t going to go sit in the warm car while Mike struggled out here by himself. She started wrenching lug nuts off of the tire. “I’m already wet,” she told him firmly. “Just let me help.”

“Guys!” The back door opened, and Will stepped out into the rain. “I can help.”

“Get back in the car!” Mike and El shouted together as one. “You’ll get sick!”

Will looked stunned to be rebuked so sharply and immediately dropped back into the car. Mike and El looked at each other, rivulets of rain running down their faces, hair soaking wet and stuck to their foreheads and necks, clothes clinging to their bodies, and burst out laughing.

El rested her forehead against the hood of the car. It was still warm. “Come on,” she coaxed. “Let’s finish this.”

It was another ten minutes they were out in the unrelenting rain, and when they finally got back into the car the silence was oppressive. Mike turned on the car and turned the radiator up all the way, trying to help warmth penetrate their soaking wet - and quickly freezing - clothing.

El bent over, head nudging the dashboard, and roughly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to prevent extra water from running down her neck and free up the curls that were cemented together.

“Wow,” Max finally said, leaning forward to look over the front bench seat. “Mom and Dad got mad.”

“They _yelled_ at me,” Will added, tone shocked. It was rare anyone yelled at Will, video games excluded.

“It’s for your own good,” Mike said, scolding, at the same moment El said, “You’ll get sick!”

It turned out that they were both right. Will did get sick.

So did El.

She went to school that following Monday, spending most of the day trying to clear her throat around the insistent scratchiness that only got worse as the day went on, and the cough that seemed to have snuck up on her was nearly choking by the the time she got home to their little cabin.

Hopper took one look at her glassy eyes and immediately declared that there was no way in hell she was going to school the next day, and so it was something of a surprise when early the next morning, around the time she’d be waking up for school, she found herself wrapped in a quilt in Hopper’s arms.

She felt hot and foggy, and at first she simply relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of being cradled by Hopper, and how much different it was than when Papa had carried her - Hopper always tucked her close, so she could hear his heart, made sure her head was pillowed. With Papa it had always been dangling limbs and an achy neck.

Then a drop of rain hit her face, and El started awake. “What’s going on?” she mumbled, dizzy and disoriented. Beyond Hopper she could make out the still dark morning sky, and heard the gentle tapping that was rain falling through the trees that surrounded them.

“Taking you to Joyce’s, kid,” Hopper grumbled, his voice causing a pleasant rumble in his chest against El’s ear. “Will’s sick too, so she’s going to keep an eye on both of you while I’m at work today.”

She dozed on the ride over, coming to again when Hopper was carrying her into the Byers house. It was a little brighter out, despite the dark clouds, and it smelled like rain and autumn, forcefully reminding her that she wasn’t at school, and that Mike would be concerned when she didn’t show up.

Hopper dropped her on the couch, and El listened as he and Joyce held a hushed conversation that went in and out of focus:

“...spiked a fever overnight… “

“...had to use his inhaler twice already…”

“...won’t take pills, crush it up with the granola and mix it in to the yogurt…”

When she woke up again, Will was standing over her, wrapped in his own comforter. “Scoot over,” he ordered gently, chest rattling.

El obediently pulled in her legs, creating a space for Will to curl up. When he was settled, head pillowed on the opposite end of the couch, she rasped out, “How you feeling?”

Will’s answer was a cacophony of wheezing and coughing. The sound attracted his mother, who was soon leaning over the two of them. “Still warm, sweetie,” Joyce clucked, concerned, as she smoothed El’s hair back from her forehead. “I’ve got some chicken soup heating up. You want some? My mother always said chicken soup was the best thing when you don’t feel good.”

The broth did help soothe her throat, and she woke up a bit, sitting up and looking around. Will was sitting across from her, clutching his own mug of soup. His face was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes, but the smile he gave El was genuine.

“Liptons,” he croaked, toasting El with his mug. “Always helps.”

She looked up, beyond Will to the big picture window she’d broken with a dead demodog several years ago. Despite the fact that it was barely afternoon, it was dark as if it were early evening. Joyce even had the overhead light on in the kitchen. The rain hitting the porch roof made a soothing hum, and El snuggled into the couch, warm and safe, wrapped around her mug of soup.

“Want to watch a movie?” Joyce asked, wrapping her own crocheted blanket around her shoulders. She crouched in front of the television, and El listened as she sorted through the few video tapes that the Byers owned.

“Ghostbusters?” Will asked hopefully, but Joyce held up a different tape instead. 

“I was thinking of something more… classic,” she said, popping the tape into the VCR. “El, honey, has anyone showed you _Singin’ in the Rain_ yet?”

El shook her head, and Joyce smiled at her. “Oh, it’s the perfect rainy sick day movie.”

She got the movie running, and then settled with them on the couch, both El’s and Will’s feet resting in her lap. El enjoyed the movie, but more than that, she enjoyed the feeling of Joyce’s hand rubbing her calves, the way she periodically leaned over to check their temperatures or coax them to take Tylenol and drink water. 

El didn’t like being sick, but she liked feeling like someone was taking care of her. Joyce had always made her feel that way. Papa and the people in the lab had never cared how she was physically - only how far they could push her. Even the rare occasion that she was ill, which didn’t happen often in the sterilized environment of the lab, they’d still used it as a chance to explore how it affected her powers, and what they could still make her do.

The movie was hypnotic, but she was still sick, and she fell asleep before the ending, comfortable and nuzzling her pillow.

When she woke up, Mike was standing over her, eyebrows drawn and lips pouted. He had a hand against her forehead.

“You’re hot. Are you supposed to be this hot?” He looked over at Joyce. “Is she supposed to be this hot?”

Joyce smiled at Mike’s concern. “It’s the flu, Mike. She’s hydrated and she’s been taking Tylenol. I’m sure she’ll be back to normal by the weekend.”

“Why are you here?” El asked, still muddled from her fever. She hadn’t been expecting to see Mike.

“I brought your homework. Will’s too,” Mike answered. He threaded his fingers through her sweaty hair. “I can’t stay. My mom’s waiting for the car. Holly has ballet tonight.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. El’s face wrinkled and she tried to wiggle away. “Don’t,” she scolded. “You’ll get sick too.”

Mike was already halfway to the door. “Worth it.”

***

El was standing outside the front entrance to the school, under the awning, watching the pouring rain hit the few cars that were left in the parking lot. Her backpack and duffel were on the ground at her feet, and despite the feeling of impatience making her heart race she was content to stand and watch the cold spring downpour. 

It hadn’t started raining until final period, and El had already changed into her track uniform before she’d realized that practice had been cancelled. The gusts of wind swept across her bare legs, raising goosebumps, and she shivered in her light windbreaker.

Behind her, the glass doors opened. She turned her head, smiling as Mike came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, dropping a kiss below her ear. “Hey pretty girl. Need a ride home?”

She turned in his arms and rocked up to kiss him. “Done already?”

Mike tutored in the library on the afternoons she had track. He had started specifically so he could justify hanging around the school and driving her home after practice was over. It was her favorite time of day - sometimes they’d stop and have dinner together, sometimes they’d talk about homework, and sometimes they’d just pull off to the side of the road up near the cabin and take advantage of the privacy the station wagon afforded them.

Today, however, was special. Today, Mike wasn’t driving her home.

“Yeah!” Mike said in mock surprise. “People don’t want to hang around the library on a rainy Friday afternoon. Weird, huh?”

“Weird,” she agreed, leaning into him, basking in his warmth.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked, mouth close to her ear. She shivered.

“Yeah.” She nodded, bit her lip, looked him square in the eye. His face reflected back the same sense of anticipation and excitement she was currently feeling. “I do.”

He took her hand and led her out into the parking lot, into the rain - not for the first time, and not for the last, either - but the sense of urgency was tempered by knowing that they were together, that they had the entire weekend to themselves.

Mike’s parents were in Bloomington, at some ridiculously expensive charity dinner that Nancy’s sorority had organized. They had left while Mike and Holly were at school, and weren’t supposed to be back until Sunday afternoon. Mike was supposed to be watching Holly, but Holly had begged to spend the weekend at her best friends house, and after swearing her to secrecy, Mike had agreed and made arrangements to pick her up early Sunday morning.

Which meant that Mike and El had an empty house to themselves for two full nights.

They hadn’t made any plans or set firm expectations. All they wanted was to luxuriate in the time provided - watch movies, eat pizza, and not have to worry about El’s curfew, Karen interrupting, or anyone making fun of them for missing the last half of the movie to make out.

_Playing house_ , Max had called it, but she hadn’t been put out when Mike and El had refused to make any plans with the rest of the Party for the weekend, and had delivered a well timed elbow to the diaphragm that had brought an abrupt end to Dustin’s complaints.

She held his hand the entire ride back to his place, Mike carefully navigating the station wagon through the spring rain. The atmosphere was easy, and comfortable. They chatted about school, about Mike’s tutoring, the tantrum Hopper had thrown over the cost of her new running shoes, and about their upcoming junior prom.

“What color is your dress?” he asked, almost too eager.

El gave him a mischievous smile, and he laughed, squeezing her hand. “You have to tell me, my mom’s going to want my suit to match.”

She bit her lip, and finally said, “Blue.”

“Blue?” He sounded almost disappointed. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” she declared.

“There are way too many different blues. How am I going to get the right one? You know what my mother is like about pictures, she’ll be so mad if I get the wrong one.” They were sitting at a red light, and he turned to look at her, his eyes drawn to her bare legs. She giggled.

“Turquoise,” El finally allowed, and Mike’s mouth dropped open.

“Turquoise is basically green!” he said, outraged. “I would have never gotten the right one!”

“Is not,” she sniffed, and he let go of her hand to sling an arm behind her, resting on the bench seat of the station wagon.

“Is too,” he argued gently, leaning in close so that their noses were brushing.

“Not,” she whispered, her eyes sliding closed - and right as his lips brushed hers, a car horn sounded from behind them.

“Shit!” Mike jerked away, stomping on the accelerator. The light had turned green and he hadn’t even noticed.

She was still laughing when they pulled into the Wheeler’s driveway and Mike shut the car off. For a moment they sat in the silence, the rain thrumming on the roof of the car. They looked at each other and grinned.

He reached out and twirled a lock of her hair around one finger. “Ready?” he asked, and El suddenly felt breathless.

El knew he was asking if she was ready to run out into the pouring rain again, but the question carried more weight in her heart, and for the first time in almost a year the answer was _yes_.

They had talked about sex for a long time - first Mike hadn’t been ready, and then when he had, El had been forced to pull back. There was a part of her that had never - _would never_ \- truly escape Hawkins Lab, and that part of her got loud whenever she got too close to that final act of intimacy. It was the part of her (that was 011, not even Eleven, and certainly not _El_ ) that shouted that she wasn’t even a real person, that her choices didn’t matter, that everything important had already been decided for her.

Tonight, however, 011 was quiet, lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain.

They made eye contact. El grinned. “Let’s go.”

They made a break for the front door - El got there first, and then had to wait while Mike fumbled and dropped the keys. She couldn't stop laughing even though she was getting wet. Mike's face was hilarious, and she suddenly felt incredibly, overwhelmingly joyful to be standing there with him in the rain while he grumbled and swore and jiggled the key in the lock.

As soon as he had slammed the door shut behind them she pressed him back against it, hands cupping his cheeks and pulling him down to kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her against him, and El lost track of time. She couldn't have said how long they stood there, wet and shivering, the rain pounding against the front door to the house.

There was no hurry, no rush to be anywhere else or hiding from prying eyes. It was only her and Mike, her fingers hooked around his ears and his thigh nudging between her legs. The house was empty and quiet. The only noise was their breathing, blending in with the sound of the rain.

"El," he mumbled against her lips, and the sound of it caused something hot and trembling to pool in her stomach.

She pulled away, and for a breathless moment they gazed at each other. When she thought her heart might burst she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down again.

Together they stumbled from the foyer into the kitchen, bumping into tables and clipping the entryway. His arms were sturdy and secure around her, and her trust in him had never been stronger - Mike had never let her fall, would never hurt her on purpose, would only ever guide her the way he thought was best for _her._

They'd never been ashamed of their physical relationship; they'd held hands from the beginning, a constant reassurance of their mutual presence, they'd exchanged awkward kisses at school dances, and then more confident ones at their lockers once El had joined them in high school. They'd hit milestones in the station wagon, in the back of dark movie theaters, in the cabin when Hopper worked late, and in Mike's own bed when the rest of the party finally crashed at sleepovers.

Having the entire house to themselves, however, was a whole new level. It didn't matter if Mike cried out as El kissed up the side of his neck, and there was no one to come running when Mike knocked a coffee cup off of the counter.

Best of all, there was no sense of urgency as Mike gripped her thighs, lifted her up, and deposited her on the counter. He didn't have to bend as far over to kiss her this way, and she could wrap her legs around his thighs, dig her heels in, and hold him close against her.

His hands, large and hot against her rain chilled skin, skirted the edge of her shorts, clenching and leaving fingerprint bruises every time her lips brushed a particularly sensitive spot. She wanted more, wanted to curl up in his heat like a blanket, and gripped the hem of his shirt, trying to force it up over his head.

He was too tall for her to finish the job. With an impatient groan he let go of her, whipped his shirt off, and tossed it across the kitchen. Laughing, she leaned into him, burying her cold nose into the dip of his collarbone. She could practically feel the goose flesh raising on his body, and felt satisfied at the shiver that ran through him. He was practically a radiator, and even though El was freezing he was warm and solid and she knew he’d never let her go cold.

Her mouth was against the pulse point of his throat when she asked the question, and Mike had to pull away, his hands stilling against her back while he looked at her. “What did you just say?”

“I said,” El dragged the question out, knees tensing and trying to bring him closer to her again. “Do you still have those condoms?”

He’d bought the box in question almost a year previously, the last time she’d thought she’d been ready. When it had turned out she wasn’t, they hadn’t been brought up again. El had thought of them often, wondered if they bothered Mike, if he had hidden them away or if he ever looked at them and resented her. If he had, he’d never turned it on her, and she’d given herself no choice but to believe in him. 

Mike had taught her _friends don’t lie_ , and beyond that, she had realized that an integral part of being in love was forcing her brain to listen to his reassurances even though her heart kept whispering that she didn’t deserve them.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice pitched low and rumbling. It made her toes curl. “Do you...?”

She gave him an appraising look. “Do _you_?”

There was no way she was risking their weekend alone if he didn’t want to, but Mike had always been fearless in the face of the unknown. His face was red, but his answer was steady and sure. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

For a moment they stayed locked together, the weight of what they’d just decided bearing down on them, and then El felt a rush of love so intense she had to fight to breathe through it. She pulled him down into a searing kiss. He responded so enthusiastically that El thought it was a shame to break it and say, “Go get them, and meet me in the blanket fort.”

They took off in opposite directions - Mike upstairs, to his bedroom, El downstairs, where she kicked off her shoes and flipped up the sheet covering their blanket fort. 

It had been modified since its earliest days - Mike had scavenged for nearly an entire summer before he’d found a taller table at the thrift shop, and that coupled with the old desk that had made up the original fort gave them enough space to accommodate his height without his feet sticking out from the under the sheet. The pillows hadn’t been moved, and a stuffed tiger that Mike had given her for Valentine’s Day lived there too. El paid it no mind as she dropped to her knees and scrambled in amongst the blankets.

It was quick work to shuck her shorts and underwear down her legs, pull her top and sports bra over her head. If Mike could be brave, she would be too. As she was bundling her socks together, she heard Mike thumping back down the steps with all the grace of an elephant performing ballet, and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she heard him walk over to the fort, his feet visible under the gap where the sheet met the floor.

Then he flipped the sheet up and saw she was nude, and despite the fact that it wasn’t the first time that Mike had seen her naked, he still seemed struck dumb at the sight.

The rain poured outside. Thunder rattled the windows, and finally El gave him a small smile and raised her hand in greeting, waving her fingers at him. “Hi.”

He grinned broadly in reply. “Hi.”

El bit her lip. “I’m cold.”

“All right,” Mike said softly, crawling all the way into the blanket fort and lowering the sheet behind him. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”

***

Aunt Becky dropped them off - a blessing, as otherwise it was a half hour walk to the nearest bus stop, which was unpleasant even in the warm summer rain. There was only one other person waiting for the next bus to Indianapolis, an older gentleman who, despite the weather, was reading the newspaper.

Max and El huddled in the back corner of the shelter, waiting patiently. Despite the fact that it was the middle of summer, El was wearing one of Mike's jackets. It was huge on her, but it kept her dry and it made her feel safe. She pulled her hands into the sleeves and turned her head into the shoulder, breathing deeply, taking comfort in the scent of Mike that was still clinging vaguely to it.

He'd gone with her to see Aunt Becky and Mama before. All of the Party had at one point or another - she'd told Mike about going alone, and he had made an official declaration that one of them would always go with her. It was now Party Law, a bylaw to rendering assistance to a party member in need. El hadn’t considered herself in need, but she welcomed the company, and wouldn’t have asked for it otherwise.

Hopper had gone exactly twice. Once, after she had requested to see Mama again, and he'd gone out to have a frank talk with Becky, to check that she wanted a relationship with her niece, and what would need to be done in order to do so safely. He'd scoured the house for bugs, and Becky was under strict orders to call Hopper immediately if any strangers came to the house sniffing around.

El wasn't worried about that. She trusted Mama to tell her if she was in danger.

The second time Hopper had taken her out to Mama's had been last winter, when Mama had contracted pneumonia and wasn't doing well. Mike had insisted on coming that time too, and he and Hopper had made stilted conversation in the kitchen while Becky and El had sat with Mama, worried she was saying goodbye before she'd ever gotten to say hello.

Mike hardly ever went. Mike didn't like Aunt Becky (and El was pretty sure the feeling was mutual) even though she was all that was left of El's family. Mike couldn't comprehend how Aunt Becky could have ever ignored her sister's insistence that Jane was alive, how she had ever doubted Mama.

If Mike had been like Aunt Becky, he would have called the Bad Men first thing in the morning after he'd found her in the woods. If Mike had been like Aunt Becky, he would have believed Lucas when he'd called her a weirdo. If Mike had been like Aunt Becky, he wouldn't have called for El for 353 days.

If Mike had been like Aunt Becky, Will would be dead in the Upside Down.

No, Mike did not like Aunt Becky. But Mike liked the thought of El riding the bus over an hour by herself even less, and would go with her every time if someone else couldn't.

Lucas had gone once. They'd spent the entire time on the bus talking about the Hobbit, which he'd lent to her, and he’d been visibly uncomfortable at the sight of El's disabled mother and chain smoking aunt. He'd seemed unsettled at the bedroom that Terry had so painstakingly prepared for baby Jane, and El had thought about his loving parents, and his nice house, and the stacks of comic books and the shiny bike, and his seemingly effortless success at school. Even without Brenner's intervention, it was obvious that she had never been destined for the same things. On the ride back he'd been very quiet, and she had dozed off, her head on his shoulder.

Dustin had gone with her a couple times. Aunt Becky had liked him - Dustin was good at helping people relax, and lowering their guards. Will had gone with her several times also, boldly lying to Joyce about where they were going, knowing that she'd be nervous about them taking the bus out of town.

The best, however, was Max.

She and Aunt Becky had discovered they were kindred spirits, and while El closed her eyes and visited with Mama in the Void - she knew El was there, but there was no more talking, no more visions like there had been on that first visit - Aunt Becky and Max could sit in the kitchen and talk about daytime talk shows and clipping coupons. The rest of the party had found their friendship surprising, but El could understand.

Her and Mama and the boys had never had a choice. Hawkins Lab and the Upside Down had been an inescapable part of their lives from the beginning. Max and Aunt Becky, however, had been drawn in, surrounded, and forced to believe.

“Want one?” Max asked, holding up the squashed pack of cigarettes.

El eyed Max, then without breaking eye contact reached out and took one.

“Neil was drunk,” Max finally explained. “He’ll think he left them at the bar.”

El shook her head. They only smoked semi-regularly - Mike hated the taste on her breath, and Max couldn’t risk smelling like fresh cigarettes or her stepfather would get suspicious. None of the rest of the party ever joined them. Will had asthma, Lucas had his sports, and Dustin wouldn’t risk damaging his voice and his burgeoning acting career. 

(“You got the lead in _one_ school play,” Max had sniffed, but hadn’t been offended. More for them.)

El leaned against the plastic wall of the shelter and watched as the smoke she exhaled drifted upwards. The rain splattering against the roof made interesting patterns, and El found herself watching single raindrops as they raced to the edge and slipped down, out of sight.

"So like," Max exhaled, and El turned her eyes on her. "What do you do when you... you know? Does she talk to you?"

El glanced over at the old man and his newspaper. He didn't seem to be suspicious, didn't appear to be listening, but years of Hopper's coaching had made her hyper aware. She wished Will was there. Will seemed to know instinctively whether or not someone was trustworthy or if they were trying to hide something. Voice low, the rain muffling the noise, she said, "No. She said my name once."

"So what, you just sit with her in the dark?" Max raised an eyebrow, and El shrugged.

Terry Ives was trapped in a perpetual cycle of reliving the worst days of her life. El went and sat with her in hopes that one day she would _see_ El - and know that she had been right, that her Jane was alive, and happy, and healthy, and being cared for. Her mother had sacrificed everything in hopes of saving her from Brenner and there was almost no way for El to bring her comfort.

"One time she showed me..." El faltered, debated what, exactly, to say. "She showed me how I was born. The hospital and the doctors and the bad men taking me away."

Max stared at her, a mildly horrified look on her face. El nervously took a drag from her cigarette, flicking away ashes. Finally Max licked her lips and said, "Your mom showed you her vagina?"

Whatever response El had been expecting, she had not been prepared to hear Max announce the word _vagina_ in a public bus shelter. She burst into laughter, the sound startling the old man - _good, he really wasn't listening in -_ and wiped at her damp face with her free hand. "No. Surgery. They cut me out and took me away."

"Ew," Max replied, and El nodded. It had been horrifying to witness, and El regularly had nightmares about it - but all the same, it was the only time her mother had ever actually communicated with her, and El positively ached when she thought about it.

She was usually sad when she left Mama. Sometimes she was sad for Mama and Aunt Becky, and how much harder Aunt Becky had to work to take care of her. Sometimes she was sad for herself, because even though it might have been hard, it would have been nice to be raised in a loving house. Sometimes she was sad because she was happy in Hawkins, and forgot that Hopper wasn't her real dad even though the birth certificate said he was.

Usually, though, she was sad because she was relieved to leave, wanting nothing more than to go back home and feel Mike's arms around her, or hear Hopper calling her _kid_. It didn't seem fair to Mama, or to Aunt Becky, who had never been anything but welcoming to El.

It was another reason El brought Max with her. Max always cheered her up without trying to talk her out of her sadness.

With a sigh Max dropped her head onto El's shoulder. El let her. Despite the weather, the circumstances, and the long bus ride ahead of them, El thought there were worse places than with her best friend in the back of a bus shelter during a summer rain. The sound of it was a soothing hum that made her want to close her eyes, slip into the Void, see what Mike was doing and curl up beside him.

She snuffed out her cigarette, crushing it under her heel, and waited for the bus.

***

The cabin was dark as El approached, light on her feet and stepping delicately to avoid slipping on the wet leaves and puddles that littered the woods around her home. Mike had tried to walk her to the cabin, but he'd already set off the tripwire twice in broad daylight - she didn't particularly trust him at night, in the rain. He'd be watching her the entire time, and wake up Hopper.

It wasn't like she was ashamed of coming home late. She was eighteen, and about to graduate high school, and it wasn't even like Hopper enforced her curfew very strictly anyway. He liked to know where she was, in case of an emergency, but he didn't give her a hard time if the party decided to go to a late movie, or crash at the Wheelers.

The problem was that it was a weeknight, and Hopper had to be up early for work. El desperately wanted to avoid waking him, especially when she didn't even have a good excuse for why she was so late.

She was late because her and Mike had been fooling around in the back the station wagon. They'd gone to a late movie, and on the way back had pulled over to _wait out the rain_.

It was a flimsy reason, El knew, because it had been raining for the last three days in Hawkins. It was the rainiest spring in recent memory, and according to the local news, had been setting records for the amount of rainfall and flooding that had resulted. What they had actually wanted was to crawl into the back of the station wagon and undress each other and laugh when Mike hit his head off the ceiling or when he touched that ticklish spot above El's hips.

Afterwards they had laid, half-dozing under a blanket, wrapped up in each other and making gentle conversation - about school, about cheerleading, about the upcoming holidays and about nothing at all. Sometimes it amazed El that for as long as she and Mike had been entwined, she still hadn't run out of words for him. 

Her keys were in the pocket of her purse - buried under her socks and leggings and the scarf she'd been wearing when she'd left the house - but instead of risking the noise, El carefully raised one hand, moving the dead bolts slowly and quietly.

The effort was destroyed as a large, bear-like creature stumbled out of the woods, barely clearing the tripwire and scaring her half to death.

"What the hell?" the creature asked, and that was when El realized that the beast in question had a flashlight, and sounded just like Hopper. "Kid, what are you doing out here?"

"What are _you_ doing out here?" she parroted back at him, her heart just starting to calm. Hand pressed against her chest she admonished, "You scared me!"

"Yeah, sorry about that." He sounded... embarrassed. She stood at the top of the steps, and even though El couldn't see him with the flashlight pointed at his feet, she could still hear it in his tone as he said reluctantly, "I got a call."

She twitched her jaw, and the flashlight rose, exposing Hopper in the dim light. "You're not wearing your uniform."

Her heart was starting to beat hard again. Where had Hopper gone, that he didn't feel he could tell her the truth?

With a sigh he stepped up onto the front porch with her, so they could finally look at each other by the glow of his flashlight. "The call was from Joyce," Hopper finally admitted. "Her basement was flooding with all the rain."

El eyed him for a moment. The wind howled and whistled through the floorboards of the porch, soaking them in the midnight rain. She decided not to comment on the fact that Joyce had been living independently in her own house for years at this point, and that it was late on a work night and Hopper was sure to be tired and cranky tomorrow.

Instead with the toss of her hands, the door clicked open. She sashayed inside, turning a lamp on with the swish of her wrist. "Don't scare me like that again."

"I was hoping you'd be in bed already," Hopper snapped. "And anyway - wait a minute. _I'm_ the parent here. Where were _you_? Why are you just getting in at the same time as me?"

She stood in the doorway to her bedroom, arms crossed, and couldn't resist saying, "I got a call."

"Ah-huh," Hopper said sarcastically, one eyebrow raised. "Maybe don't take that tone with me when you were out necking with your boyfriend."

"You don't know that," El muttered, lips pulling down into a pout.

"You were wearing leggings when you left the house," Hopper pointed out, and El couldn't resist rolling her eyes as she slammed the door shut behind her.

***

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Mike’s last class got out at 5:00, which meant he was usually home by 5:30 at the latest, considering it was a short walk to campus. Fridays were El’s favorite. On Fridays Mike didn’t start his homework right away - they could just breathe, and relax, and eat dinner together, and then Mike would spend Saturday doing homework so they could enjoy Sunday together without interruption before starting the process all over again.

It was a completely different routine than she was used to, the first time in four years she wasn’t in school. Part of her missed it - missed being out, missed seeing her friends every day, missed the thrill of learning new thing even with the inconvenience of homework - but she would have never traded what she had now to be back there.

What she had now was Mike, a gold band on her left hand, their own private space and the knowledge that they’d never have to wait for one another ever again.

She’d been busy earlier in the day, walking to the grocery store and hauling home the ingredients for the four bean chilli she was planning to make that weekend. On her way back, hauling the heavy bags down the street, the skies had started to darken, and the pleasant breeze that had carried the decaying scent of fall had chilled into a damp wind that seemed to pass effortlessly through her corduroy pants and long sweatshirt, the first chilling promise of the oncoming winter.

Less than an hour later the rain started, and it had continued the entire afternoon. The steady drizzle deepend into a thunderstorm, with rain pelting sideways into the windows, and El couldn’t help worrying as she looked out the window at the cold, dark evening, knowing Mike was out there.

Earlier in the semester she wouldn’t have worried, but as the season had progressed it got darker earlier and earlier. Sometimes when she was worried - or even bored, in the middle of the day when she was caught up on housework and El missed her little television back in Hopper’s cabin - she could close her eyes and see him, leg jiggling in class or flipping through a book at the library.

It was almost six when he finally stumbled through the door, shoes squeaking and hair dripping. She practically vaulted over the loveseat to get to him. “Mike!”

“Wait -” He held up his hands as if to stop her, but there was no way to prevent El from leaping into his arms. “I’m all wet!”

“And freezing!” she agreed, voice muffled by his jean jacket. “C’mon.”

It was quick work to get rid of his backpack - dropping it to the floor with a depressingly heavy _thump_ \- and shed him of his jacket. He kicked his shoes off and grimaced. “Ugh, my socks are gross.”

“Here,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him into their tiny bedroom. He leaned against their dresser, slipping his socks off and tossing them in the direction of the laundry basket - he missed - and then laughing as El invaded his personal space again, hands already on the button of his jeans.

She slipped her hands under his shirt, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tense as she ran her hands up and pulled his shirt over his head. That, too, missed the laundry basket. Mike’s skin was distressingly cold. He was the warmest person in her life, a personal radiator on winter nights and cold mornings.

Once his jeans were off he sat down on the bed, arms wrapped around her waist and face buried in the soft skin right below her bra as she roughy toweled his hair dry. His nose was icy too, but his breath was hot, and El felt goosebumps ripple the skin of her thighs and forearms. 

“You’re so cold,” El said in an admonishing tone, tossing the towel over one shoulder and grinning at the way his hair stuck up everywhere.

“Then warm me up,” he replied, laying a trail of hot kisses down to her navel. His hands, large and reassuring, slid up and unhooked her bra with practiced ease. “It’s practically snowing out there.”

Thunder crashed loudly. The lights flickered. With a sniff the covers were pulled down, and when El pushed gently on his shoulders Mike fell back without a single protest.

As she was crawling over him to her half of the bed, he slid his arms around her and pulled her tight against him, burying his face against her neck. She exhaled an inelegant huff as she fell against him, limbs flailing, but Mike’s grip merely tightened as he kissed his way up her neck, under her jaw.

His lips never left her skin while she shifted off of him, flopping onto her back and carding her hands through his hair as he slung one leg in between hers. His arms held her tight, but she didn’t mind - it never bothered her when it was Mike. She was never safer than when she was with Mike; even when he was angry she trusted him with her life. Rough handling was one of her worst triggers but Mike never held her tight because he was trying to control her - he held her close because he was afraid of letting her go.

Thunder crashed, the electricity went out with a short screech, and then came back on again with a powerful hum. El was preoccupied with the feeling of Mike wrapped around her, the comfort of their bed, the relief of having him near. She ran her hands up and down his back, willing the warmth back into his skin.

They hadn’t needed to do it this way - in another world, she waited in Hawkins, and he lived in the dorms like a normal teenager. It was harder this way. They were far away from their families, with little support. El didn’t have any friends, Mike’s top priority was studying, and they both desperately missed the rest of the party. Money was a constant worry.

All of that was far away - and easy to keep at arm's length - when Mike held her close. It was all worth it, and El would go through the hardest parts over and over again if it meant she got this: her and Mike, their shared body heat in their marriage bed, on a stormy Friday night when they were beholden to nobody but themselves.

The lights went out again, and this time, they stayed off. The only light was the flashes of lightning she could see behind the blinds. El rolled onto her side, legs tangled with Mike’s, and closed her eyes, content and drowsy with love.

Outside, the storm raged on.


End file.
